The Human Vault - Equilibrium, Pt1
by TheScienceOwl
Summary: Three years following Chell's exile to the surface, GLaDOS unearths a dark mystery that had been buried in the confines of the human vault, and with it sets into motion a chain of events that will change Aperture forever. Yet on the surface, in the war torn City 6, Chell is left to protect the facility - her only home - and its secrets from the greedy hands of the Combine.
1. A New Subject

A/N: Hello everyone, and welcome to the rewrite of The Human Vault (originally published under my old pen-name of Michaela-le-Mongoola). It's now going to be a part of the Equilibrium series of stories that will eventually become full blown Portal/Half-Life crossovers. For now though, enjoy what will mainly be Aperture-shaped shenanigans.

As for a little more information, I just need to point out that the Portal games we play through are not the universe that is in this story. Instead, we have an alternative dimension (gotta throw that lovely PETI in there somewhere), but one that is very similar to the games so as to - hopefully - not be a jarring reading experience. I also need to point out now that this story follows the Chell is Caveline's daughter theory, so if you are not a fan of this particular fan theory I am sorry and I hope it does not completely spoil your read through if you choose to continue.

Now for the legalities; I do not own Portal. Portal and its characters are the property of Valve. I can only lay claim to my original characters and the plot of this story.

So, with all of that covered, on to the story! I'm planning on uploading a new chapter every Friday, so you guys shouldn't have to wait ages for any continuation if you really like this little read.

Hope you guys enjoy it!

Michaela out :) .

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Chapter One

A New Subject

Deep beneath the quiet surface of rural Michigan lay a test chamber, one that shared the silent serenity of the world immediately above it. It was a room of bright white panels and polished glass, and was clean and sterile in every possible way. The low thrum of a distant machine was barely audible, but it did nothing to disturb the calm of the space. It was perfect.

At least it had been until the door to the chamber opened to reveal a surly man in a bright orange jumpsuit. Just the splash of colour was enough to disturb the tranquillity, but his voice broke it altogether.

"Hey!" He called to the nearest available object; a wall-mounted security camera. "Hey you! Yeah, you. I know you can hear me. I'm the human and you're the computer. You should do what I say, you hear? You don't get to boss me around. _You_ listen to _me_."

From her large and empty chamber, the 'computer' uttered a prolonged and strained sigh. This human had no idea just who it was that he was dealing with. He was a wise-guy, and GLaDOS did not care for wise-guys.

The central AI of the Aperture Science facility hung from her ceiling, dominating the dark space with her size, her white bodywork, and her one judgemental eye. With a gentle and controlled grace she swayed, casting the bright yellow of her optic across the two inert forms of her Cooperative Testing Initiative robots, Atlas and P-Body, otherwise known to her as Blue and Orange respectively. She briefly considered reactivating them, purely so that she may watch the horror in their eyes as she blew them to pieces and had them reassembled, which was in itself an excellent form of immediate stress relief.

It was only the small but powerful voice in the back of her mind that stopped her and, much like the human in the test chamber, it was yet another voice that irritated her.

Caroline. The voice in her head. The conscience of a super-intelligence. They were one in the same, she and GLaDOS, but both so very different.

"Don't you even think about it," Caroline scolded.

GLaDOS need not ask as to what it was that she was forbidden from undertaking.

The human in the test chamber, however, had seemingly grown tired of having his thoughts go unheard, and in her mind's eye GLaDOS could see him march towards the security camera with purpose. Fortunately, he was too short to reach the equipment, otherwise GLaDOS was certain that she would have been witness to some mindless vandalization.

"Computer?" The test subject called, crossing his arms across his chest with dramatic flair. "I'm waiting for an apology, computer."

Enough was enough. In mere nanoseconds the wall panels that he stood between crashed together with a metallic thud and the ever-so-satisfying crunch of breaking bones.

Caroline screamed, and GLaDOS let out a harsh chuckle in reply. Caroline may have been her conscience, but the conscience could easily be ignored if the situation called for immediate action.

"Oh, come on," GLaDOS began, "he contributed nothing to science. In fact, he contributed nothing to society. I did the world a favour. But don't worry; you can thank me later."

" _That_ was nothing more than cold-blooded murder." Caroline seethed in reply.

"You did ask that I not destroy those two." The A.I turned to look down on her two robots. "Perhaps if you were a little clearer next time?"

"You are utterly unbearable."

"Believe me, that feeling is entirely mutual."

With the will of her mind alone, the now bloodied chamber was quickly cleaned and rearranged to GLaDOS' very specific commands. The body of the test subject was on its way to the incinerator as the last of the newly arranged panels clicked into place, held together with the robotic metal arms that GLaDOS often considered an extension of herself. In a way, her destruction of the human had been akin to squashing a rather disgusting little bug under the palm of a hand – and this thought alone left her satisfied enough to now turn her attention to the location of every remaining human in the facility: the human vault.

It was a crass and ineloquent name, the human vault, but it was as Caroline had described it to be upon its discovery by Atlas and P-Body and so the name had stuck.

It also meant that GLaDOS now had far more test subjects than ever before, as the shadowy vault was both vast and filled from top to bottom with nothing but status pods full of unknowing humans. She could afford to lose some of her new lab rats in _unfortunate_ testing accidents – and it just so happened that GLaDOS' new rules included death by provocation as one such unfortunate accident; it was, after all, much like a provoked slap to the face that may have been sudden and wholly enacted upon as a violent muscle spasm – only this slap was seventy-five percent more painful and one hundred percent more deadly.

Accessing the vault's files took but a second, and GLaDOS was greeted with a long list of test subjects, their testing numbers and their most prevalent traits. There were no names – after all, what use did lab rats have for such trivialities?

"Lazy," GLaDOS read aloud as she trawled through the data laid out before her, listing the traits as idly as she could. "Afraid of everything. Overconfident... Hm. I can work with overconfidence."

Somewhere in the back of her mind she could hear Caroline groan, and GLaDOS chose to once again ignore her. Instead, she returned to her task at hand.

"This one is a prize: narcissist. I think I'll save this one for a Narcissus styled test. But with acid."

Caroline sighed. "Must you?"

"Yes, I must." GLaDOS quipped before continuing the list. "This one is a little more promising; he is intelligentbut lacks common sense! Oh, I could have fun with this one. He'll do."

The central AI watched as the subject's stasis pod was removed from its rack, leaving behind an empty space in just one of the many towering walls of unconscious humans. It was quickly borne away to the recovery room on a management rail, where the occupant would eventually wake from his state of enforced half-death. Unfortunately, this would take time. But GLaDOS was patient. She could wait. She would simply _hate_ to lose another guinea pig because she woke it up too early, and only a fool would not learn from the mistakes of the past.

Caroline, who had been observing GLaDOS' thoughts, remained silent as the A.I watched the progress of the stasis pod. She remained to this day to be dumbfounded at just how far removed the computer had become from her own personality – the personality of the real, once living Caroline, from whom GLaDOS had been created. GLaDOS was a monster in every sense of the word, whereas Caroline was (or at least she hoped to be) the absolute opposite. Yet as often as she tried, Caroline could never make the A.I see just how far she had fallen from her original source material – in fact, Caroline often believed that there was very little reason for her continued existence at all. GLaDOS would have been overjoyed if she were to simply disappear. And as the computer had tried – and failed – to delete her in the past, Caroline saw no reason for this to be considered as paranoia.

It was a strange and uneven partnership that both the computer and the conscience shared; Caroline was witness to every thought process that went through GLaDOS' brilliant and yet terrifying mind, though GLaDOS herself could not even guess at Caroline's thoughts unless she chose to voice them. Likewise, GLaDOS had all the power and control that she could ever desire, but Caroline was left to helplessly watch as her attempts to curb GLaDOS' machinations went unheeded.

The two watched through their shared internal feed as the stasis pod neared its destination in the recovery room. Returning her scrutinising gaze to her testing robots, GLaDOS reactivated the pair and begrudgingly allowed them to step down from their docking bays without any snide remarks. Once the pair had chirped happily to one another and – much to GLaDOS' despair – hugged, they turned to look up at their mistress who glared down upon them like the vast and omnipotent A.I that she was.

"Orange, Blue," she began, commanding their full attention, "we have a new visitor to the testing tracks. Go and make sure that he will be _comfortable_ for his upcoming time in the relaxation vault."

With no arguments, Atlas and P-Body marched away in the direction of the pod. GLaDOS was proud to say that she could do many things, but dressing a human in the appropriate testing attire was neither something that she could call a skill or even relished the thought of undertaking.

"Yes," Caroline began with a mock snobbishness, "have the help do the undesirable work. Heaven forbid you should ever have to sully yourself."

"Really now, I do more than my fair share of work for this facility. Some compassionate soul may even say that I do too much. Still, the help needs a task to complete, otherwise the help would be completely useless and, most likely, destroyed and reverted back into scientific calculators."

Caroline made a strangled noise, one that drew a chuckle from GLaDOS' audio admitters. She cared too much for those robots, and the threat of their ever-looming destruction was often enough to keep Caroline quiet for at least an entire evening.

The stasis pod was now in place and awaiting the arrival of the Cooperative Testing Initiative. In the brighter light of the recovery room both computer and conscience could finally see the subject a little clearer than before: broad shoulders, sandy brown hair, a strong jaw…

Caroline gasped.

"What is it now?" GLaDOS demanded.

"Mark?"

A pause, but then GLaDOS scowled, and not without adding a simulated roll of her eye. "Who?"

But Caroline could not immediately answer, as she surveyed the face that was so familiar to that of one of the most important people in her life. "It's Mark," she paused as she had to force words to forefront of her now chaotic mind. "Cave's nephew. He's Cave's nephew."

The A.I's curiosity was suddenly piqued, and she turned her attention to Caroline in full. "Mr. Johnson had a nephew?"

Cave Johnson was the founder and CEO of Aperture Science, and had been in full control of the facility long before GLaDOS had taken control of the helm. He had also been Caroline's husband, and together both he and Caroline had spawned a particular lunatic unto the world; a dangerous woman that the A.I would sooner like to forget. But this news came as a complete surprise to GLaDOS, who had never even known that Mr. Johnson had siblings, let alone a nephew.

"What is he doing here?" Caroline's voice broke through GLaDOS' thoughts. "We hadn't seen him for years. Why is he in stasis?"

GLaDOS hummed in thought, taking a closer look at the human. Yes, there was indeed a clear resemblance there. And then a new and unwelcomed thought graced her mind - would he be as destructive as _her_ , that most foul progeny of Caroline and Cave, that had been the one to _kill_ GLaDOS once before?

"He isn't Chell," Caroline scolded. "And I'd thank you to not think about my daughter like that."

"She killed me. I believe I've earned the right to think of her as I please. And your daughter is a lunatic. And I mean that in the most brutally honest way."

Caroline had already returned her attention to her nephew-in-law, encased within glass and nutrient gel, and balked at the thought of yet another one of her family members having to endure the rigours and horrors of testing.

GLaDOS' only concern was of his mental state in regard to stadium-sized super computers, and pondered over the very real possibility that he may share his cousin's terrible sentiments. It wasn't too late for her to send him back to the vault where he would be promptly locked away in his own little cell. Forever. Or she could just kill the thing whilst he slept. It was cowardly, but GLaDOS was fully prepared to be the lesser person if it meant that she could live with the peace of mind that another lunatic couldn't harm her.

"Don't you dare!" Caroline snapped with a venomous edge to what was usually a sweet and chirpy tone. "Don't. You. Dare."

"If he kills me, he also kills you." The A.I retorted. "Did you not think about that one, genius?"

"Mark is not a killer."

"You probably thought the same thing about your monster of a daughter. Look at how well that ended."

"You provoked her; she can be as stubborn and hot-headed as Cave, if the situation calls for it." Caroline paused for breath – as redundant as that was - and tried to compose her racing mind. "Mark was always a quiet one; placid and calm. He kept to himself and stayed out of trouble.

"He won't cause you any harm," Caroline continued. "Just please, don't send him through the Enrichment Centre. Just let him go."

"Go?" The A.I barked out a single, sharp laugh. "Go where? To go and be free to wander the facility? I don't think so. The surface? If he is as you say, placid, he won't stand much of a chance out there. Those lovely little alien friends of ours will soon see to that."

The aliens. Caroline shuddered, thinking of her beautiful daughter having to live in a world ruled by a domineering alien race.

Chell had not reappeared since she was exiled from the facility. GLaDOS had been sure to make sure that she would never be able to make her way back in. Neither computer or conscience knew the exact timeframe for the alien's arrival, nor what had prompted their invasion. The only thing they knew was that they had taken over in the entirety.

And Chell was out there, somewhere, and quite possibly living under their rule. Caroline could only assume the worst, but GLaDOS felt more concern for the aliens – she was their problem now, and they would need all the help that they could get should she decided to turn lunatic on them.

With Caroline now readily preoccupied with those thoughts of her daughter that never truly went away, GLaDOS returned to this 'Mark' human. She wanted to get rid of him. Now. It would be so easy to just throw him in the incinerator. But something held her back – a small curiosity of sorts, that pondered on the possibility that this human could be an invaluable test subject. If not, then tormenting him would be entertaining, and not just for his misery, but for the suffering of Caroline as well.

This was truly a predicament, but thankfully GLaDOS loved to settle predicaments. And whilst the foreseeable future was now one of uncertainty, GLaDOS was certain of one thing – testing was still the future, and the future started with her tests.


	2. An Uncomfortable Episode

Chapter Two

An Uncomfortable Episode

Chell's short sleep was disturbed by the blood-chilling call of a roving Combine siren, and her breath hitched with every rising toll. Civil Protection must have been close by. And if they were close by then she would have to find a new hiding place. Fast.

The cold voice of the Combine overwatch soon joined the alarm, filtering through the hundreds of thousands of speakers found throughout the urban sprawl known as City 6; "Individual of interest – you are charged with socio-endangerment, level three. Protection units, prosecution code: clamp, pacify, lock."

She really needed to move.

Pulling her backpack from beneath her head and swinging it onto her shoulders, Chell rose to her feet and leapt from her carboard hiding spot, flexing her toes inside what remained of her Aperture Science Long Fall Boots. She broke into a loping sprint, barely registering the faint and uneven sounds of the _tap-clink-creak-tap_ that her broken footwear echoed into the empty alleyway. Not even the missing spring of her left boot could slow her down, nor would it affect her stride; she needed to get to safety, and if she could not find safety then Chell would make damn sure that she could put some distance between her and her hunters.

Perhaps everyone back at the camp had been right - she should not have gone out to look for supplies. But people had been hungry, _injured_. They needed something. Anything. And now her capture would just spit in the face of the anything and everything that so many other people had done just to protect her.

She had just wanted to return the favour.

Chell turned a corner, heading into an adjacent alley that was shrouded in the darkness of night. Her eyes peered into the bleakness until, at last, they found the faint outline of an old vent. The cover had been removed long ago, and it was just big enough for one person to squeeze into and to shimmy on through to the inside of an abandoned building. There were many such vents like this, ones that the resistance used for supply drops, makeshift escape routes or for the training of new recruits.

Tearing the bag from her back, Chell fell to her knees and pushed the backpack before her as she crawled into the claustrophobic space. She shuffled forward as fast as she possibly could, and though her elbows and knees were dressed in thick denim and faux leather, Chell could still feel that sharp and painful scratching sensation of friction against rusted metal. Her fingertips dug into the cold dirt and dust, pulling and pushing.

 _Pushing. Fingertips tearing at glass. White walls. Glass walls. Trapped in place. Trapped in a space within a space. Numbers on the wall. A single red light – an eye. A soundless scream…_

Chell yelped as her head collided with the low ceiling of the vent, jumping as she caught herself spiralling into bad memories. She couldn't do this. Not now. Not when she was in immediate danger. _Danger._

 _Danger of suffocation. Hands scratching at a faint seam. No. Not now. No_. _No air. Light too bright. A room beyond: empty. The smell of many years of sleep. Sickening. Air. Falling. Hands and knees and elbows, all in pain. The floor. Please no. Not now. Focus. Focus!_ _Music. Too happy. Too familiar. Madness! Anger! Confusion, and then clarity. A thrill down a spine. The eye, it watches._

 _An internal scream, so loud that it drowns out her thoughts. Trapped. She had been trapped. Tricked. No hope. No prayer could save her now. Failure!_

 _A voice. Familiar, but strange. Cold. Clinical. Malicious. "Hello, and once again, welcome to the Aperture Science computer-aided Enrichment Centre…"_

Chell pulled at her hair, using pain to bring herself back to reality with a sharp tug. She could hear her laboured, uneven breathing bounce from dull walls and back to her ears. She was still hidden inside the vent, but the faint light from the room beyond held the faint pink hue of the morning sun.

How long had she been stuck in this particular episode? Now all of her energy was gone, and she could only slump against the metal that had been thoroughly warmed by her body heat and slicked with her sweat.

Her drive was gone. Chell, the daughter of two of the most powerful people in human history, could now only lay in a filthy vent and stew on everything that had gone wrong in her life. Not even another Combine siren could force her into action.

She just didn't care.

Chell lay alone in a self-loathing silence until she vaguely registered that her bag was taken from her. Sudden muffled voices rang in her ears like a klaxon and grasping hands reached out for her own, pulling her free of the vent and into the now bright sunlight that filtered through both the dust and the broken windows.

An unusual face entered her line of sight, one with several bright, red yes and brown skin stretched across a long and thin face. A vortigaunt.

"Tell Sii-Hya that the Chell Johnson is safe," the vortigaunt turned to a nearby human, dressed head to toe in makeshift resistance armour. "We will wait until nightfall before we transport her back to the camp."

Chell's attention was temporarily piqued when she heard Sii-Hya's name; that gentle old vortigaunt was the leader of the camp that she now called home. No doubt would he rebuke her for leaving without permission or company, but as the vortigaunt above her lay his hand across her forehead - and her mind began to go blank - the world around her vanished. She found that she just could not care about that either.

The sensation of falling came across her body and made her limp. And, finally, her frenzied mind cleared into nothing but light and warmth, and it was a warmth that spread through her in the entirety.

So warm. Like a summer's breeze. A relaxing bath:

 _A comfortable bed._

 _Chell shifted, feeling blankets and bed sheets wrapping around her into a cocoon of safety. With a quick peek over the blankets, Chell found that she was met by her childhood bedroom. Shelves with toys and books lined the furthest wall, and on the wardrobe there were pictures of her own design; her parents, Chell herself with her friends, childish portraits of her little family unit as a whole, and a crude design of an early Companion Cube._

 _Beyond the door she could hear her parent's voices._

 _She needed to see them. She had to. Just one last time._

 _But as she sat up in hr bed something began to feel… off. Looking about her room, Chell found a vortigaunt standing next to her window. He wore a tattered jacket that had been adjusted to fit his alien frame, and bore a look of deep concern that spoke in utter volumes._

 _Sii-Hya._

" _Wake up, Chell Johnson," Sii-Hya's voice was gentle as he spoke. "Wake up - I need to speak to you."_


	3. A Step in the Wrong Direction

Chapter Three

A Step in the Wrong Direction

"So, what is it that I'm supposed to do here, exactly?"

Mark Johnson, now fully awake and aware of his situation, stood before the entrance of GLaDOS' freshly created testing track. He fumbled with the portal device in his hands, and looked ungainly tall and precariously balanced in a pair of long fall boots. There was very little dignity to be found in his overall presence.

"Hello?" Mark looked up to the nearest camera. He watched as the lens subtly shifted, and he could not help but feel as though the device were trying to gauge his thoughts.

In truth, it was.

As GLaDOS watched him from the safety of her chamber, she scowled. In the past, GLaDOS had never truly taken an interest in human facial expressions, at least not until the lunatic known as Chell had made her first larger-than-life appearance. Now, however, they served as useful indicators as to just how murderously dangerous a test subject could be. The lunatic's facial expressions had vividly portrayed that which her silence could not; her eyes and body language had, in their own infuriatingly beautiful way, held an eloquence about them; a certain defined charm that had made her as easy to read as a book.

Mark Johnson, however, was infuriatingly plain. This was not something that GLaDOS had expected from a relative of Cave Johnson.

"Hello?" The human called again, trying to not drop the portal device as he waved up at the scrutinising camera. "I really don't understand. I need help."

Again, GLaDOS wondered just how he was a Johnson.

Caroline, who had thus far remained silent, came forward with her own response;

"He's scared. Confused. He has only just woken up from stasis, and here you are throwing him in at the deep end. That is more than enough to make him question the situation."

GLaDOS huffed. "The other test subjects were not nearly as needy."

"Yes, but they had longer to recover." Caroline stated calmly, but not without an edge of bitterness to her tone. "For some reason you decided to simply toss Mark to the lions, so to speak. Ah, but of course, I know the reason -

"You're afraid, aren't you?" Caroline's voice was cold. "You're afraid that he will try to kill you, just as Chell did. You want him to struggle. You want him to fail."

GLaDOS said nothing, and chose instead to keep her focus on the human in question. She watched as he gave up on receiving any kind of response and took his first few tentative steps into the test chamber, which was a simple button and cube affair with little to no danger of death or strenuous thinking. It seemed perfect for this simpleton.

The computer could almost feel her conscience bristling; it made her chuckle.

For Mark, however, there was nothing funny about his current situation. He looked about at his bright white surroundings with a sense of unease, and as his gaze floated up to the nearby empty observation room the unsettled feeling in the pit of his stomach only grew.

Where were all the people?

He had not seen one single human since he had woken from stasis. Before he had voluntarily undergone the 'extended relaxation' procedure, Mark had been sat in a room full of scientists and legal officials, all of whom had repeatedly informed him that he would be watched and cared for by a full team of human professionals as he ran the testing tracks. Instead he had been woken by two (admittedly friendly) robots, and he had not met anyone else since.

Unless, of course, he counted the disembodied voice of his late aunt. Mark at least assumed that it was his aunt; there was something about her voice that did remind him so much of her, but it was also so alien that it could be somebody completely different to her.

Deciding that he would do well to humour his omnipotent, bodiless overseer, Mark turned to the large cube in the corner of the room. He knew that he could use the portal device to pick the heavy object from the ground, but after several attempts and three fired portals later he decided to instead place the gun aside and lifted the cube to its rightful place on the button beside the exit door.

"Well done," the intangible voice floated lazily above his head. "You have demonstrated the ability to carry weighted objects in a not-so-limited, limited space. Not part of the test. Retrieve the handheld portal device from the floor and continue into the next text chamber."

Mark flinched at the sarcasm in the woman's voice. Why had he volunteered for this? He had been in line to take over the company from his father, Lucas Johnson: he had been on the management team! Why did he think that volunteering for this had been sensible? Ah, yes, his father's approval – that much sought-after commodity.

Lucas Johnson, brother to Aperture's founder Cave Johnson, had taken up the mantle of CEO when Uncle Cave and his wife Caroline, CEOs both, had died and his cousin Chell had vanished. Mark would have taken over when his father stepped down from the position.

Leaving the test chamber with the portal device in his arms, Mark stepped into the new room and instantly fell over a small ledge and into the hard floor below. He had failed to see the drop as it had blended into the lower portion of the chamber, and unaccustomed to pain as he was he yelped and screamed and cursed until the voice spoke over his cries.

"In the words of Einstein's not-so-famous cousin, Terry; pain is a sensation and sensations are designed to be enjoyed. So suffer, and please write down your experiences on your self-reporting form at the end of the tests."

Mark incredulously stared at the nearest camera. Was this – possibly robot – woman for real?

His feelings of uncertainty had not been for nothing: he had made a terrible mistake in volunteering for this farce.

() -+- ()

Chell woke to the sound of voices beyond her the door. Next came the sound of footsteps, gunfire from the firing range and the clutter of plates from the communal kitchen to which her room (and several others) were adjoined.

Somehow, she had woken up back at camp. It seemed the group sent to retrieve her had manged to safely return both her and themselves to the base.

Feeling a dullness to her brain that had also settled in her limbs, Chell moved slowly and sat on the edge of the bottom bunk of a small bunk bed, looking about at the small room that she inhabited alone. There was very little in the way of personalisation – the only telling feature that this was her personal space came from the charred Companion Cube that sat next to her bunk. With a smile she gave the cube a pat and made her deliberately careful way towards her door, not quite trusting her legs to carry her.

The door opened with a high-pitched creak that she had grown accustomed to, but the brightness of the combined kitchen and cafeteria almost blinded her. For a while the noise continued, until the small group of both humans and vortigaunts sat at the nearest table noticed her. Their sudden silence turned into one large and all-encompassing wave as table upon table registered the sudden dip in volume and had turned in her direction to investigate the source of the silence.

All eyes were upon her, with only the occasional cough and sounds from the range to break the silence. Chell felt suddenly uncomfortable, with a sickness crawling from her stomach and up into her throat from all of this unwanted attention.

"Erm," she cleared her throat, raising her hand in a feeble attempt at a wave, "hi guys."

From across the room someone uttered a greeting in return, followed by a grunt of pain as they were, as Chell could only assume, elbowed painfully by one of their table mates.

Feeling increasingly uncomfortable under the collective gaze, Chell left as quickly as her heavy legs would allow, though she could still feel the burn of the eyes that followed her on her back.

Had something gone wrong during her rescue operation? Did someone get hurt? Did somebody die? She felt sick at the thought of some poor soul dying because of her. Somebody already had in the past…

Chell leant herself against the wall of one of the camp's many corridors, holding her head in her hands as she tried to force the memories to leave her. But the sound of metal creaking and crushing beneath extreme pressure haunted her, the low rumble of struggling machines rang in her ears, a loud, terrified howl from a man who despised any show of weakness…

"Chell Johnson…"

Chell yelped as she felt something brush her shoulder, lashing out at the figure that had appeared next to her.

Fortunately for Sii-Hya, he had grown accustomed to these sudden outbursts and evaded her punch with grace. Chell's eyes widened in horror as she realised what she had done and babbled an almost incoherent apology.

Sii-Hya was dressed in his usual torn jacket and bore his trademark look of constant concern. He waved a hand in dismissal of her apology and instead beckoned for her to follow him. "Fear not, your reaction is regrettably understandable."

She followed the alien as he led her to the camp office, where he was stationed on an almost daily basis. As leader of the camp, Sii-Hya took his position seriously, and acted accordingly as he spent even his free time endlessly pouring over supply lines and details of the Combine's movements. It was something that Chell both admired and found endearing; Sii-Hya truly cared about the camp and its inhabitants.

En route, everyone that they passed stared at Chell with the same kind of curious and cold expression that she had received in the kitchens. With a lump in her throat, Chell asked the vortigaunt ahead of her if someone had come to harm on their return to the camp. His answer of "no" helped to put her racing mind at ease, but it did not explain the looks that she had been receiving.

As though reading her mind, Sii-Hya informed her that she had spent much of her restless sleep in a state of almost constant screaming.

' _Ah,'_ she thought. _'So they were just staring at the freak. Of course.'_

She was not the only one to suffer such panic attacks and outbursts: many in the camp experienced anxiety and heightened levels of stress. But her attacks were plentiful and often, and it surprised Chell that she had not already thought of this as an explanation as to the looks that she had been given.

When these attacks had begun, she could not exactly pinpoint, but they had begun sometime after being forced from Aperture. Her home. Perhaps all of the pressure that she had been existing on had been enough to keep her mind focused on the task at hand: survival. But once that pressure had been removed? Once she was tossed away from the one place that she had fought so hard to reclaim? She had lost both her home, her mother and her best friend once again in the space of hours. In retrospect, it was little wonder that her mind had simply given up.

Sii-Hya stopped outside his office door, turning to her as he opened it and stood aside.

"Come, Chell Johnson. We have much to discuss."


	4. A Small Misadventure

A/N: Hello everyone! I hope you all had a happy holiday and a great new year! Sorry about the massive delay, but I got caught up with various things over the Christmas period and several other things during January. But I'm back now :) . Please accept this long chapter as my apology to you.

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Chapter Four

A Small Misadventure

With several successful tests to his name, Mark had begun to feel a little more confidant in his cognitive abilities. The bruises and cuts that he had gained on the way would fade, but his sense of accomplishment would not, and that feeling alone was the one force currently driving him forwards. After all, he had quickly learned that he could not turn to his overseer for support or guidance.

But one question constantly plagued his mind: where were all the people?

On a handful of occasions now he had spotted the two friendly robots watching him curiously from adjacent observation rooms. Just watching and never allowing themselves to become involved. Perhaps his fellow humans would have been just as aloof, but at least they would have been _human_.

Mark couldn't quite shake the feeling that something had gone horribly, terribly wrong; and in this world of white walls, gels and portal devices some things could go very, tragically wrong. This point was illustrated further by his near-beheading-by-laser as he entered the next chamber.

Having avoided death, Mark immediately walked into another hazard – a bright ball of light that bounced from the ceiling and to the floor. He jumped aside with a yelp and crawled away to a small alcove where he promptly stopped to have an unnecessary rest in relative safety.

Another peculiarity; he just did not feel tired. He had not noticed this at first, and as he passed test after test Mark could only assume that it was pure adrenaline that had prevented him from succumbing to exhaustion. Now, however? Now he was not so sure. At the very least he should have felt weary.

Casting his eyes around the room revealed yet more dangers to come: acrid smelling goop, more lasers, moving platforms… His head spun. The other tests had been taxing, both mentally and physically, and each had taken him a long while to complete, but this one looked ridiculous.

It was as he sighed and made to lean his head against the wall that he noticed that one of the nearby wall panels was ajar – not so ajar that he could fit through the gap beyond, but one large enough for him to at least peek into the world beyond these chambers. It could have been a trap.

But perhaps he would see someone?

With a quick glance at the nearest camera and throwing caution to the wind, Mark shuffled towards the panel and peered out beyond the walls.

Disappointment punched him in the gut as he was greeted by darkness and an empty walkway, and his heart sank. The facility beyond was just as expansively sparse as he remembered. With a sigh of defeat he placed his forehead against the edge of the panel and was crushed by a sudden sense of finality; how long would have to do these tests? Would he ever be allowed to leave? Or was he going to die here, as he had begun to suspect?

Yet as he blinked he discovered something new. A brightness in the dark. From his new vantage point he could see a small slither of another white wall panel. It was duller in colour than that of a test chamber, but if he could just place a portal on it…

Taking up the portal device firmly in his hands, Mark angled the gun through the gap and shot a portal into the air. It missed, but he tried once again and landed a bright blue portal onto the wall beyond. Without a second thought, he pointed the device below him and fired the orange portal. The sharp tug of gravity pulled at the base of his spine, and as the world tumbled into falling colours and bright lights about him, he felt as though he were falling.

And fall he did, directly on to of a collection of hard, breakable objects that smashed under his weight.

"So, I see you escaped the test chamber." Mark froze as the voice of his overseer wafted from a nearby intercom. "Well done. We are all very impressed with your efforts. However, escaping is not part of the test. Once you have satisfied whatever curiosity has overcome you, please return to the testing track. I'm patient. I can wait."

Mark lay still for a few minutes, waiting to see if she would add anything further to this very one-sided conversation. She was not forthcoming with more snide remarks or terrible suggestions.

He had to move. He had to find other people.

Sitting upright very carefully, Mark looked around to see just what it was that he had landed on. Mugs. Lots and lots of mugs. Slowly and gingerly he stood, picking loose chippings from his clothes as he did. More bruises to add to his collection, no doubt, but none of the shards of pottery had managed to pierce his jumpsuit and embed themselves in his skin. At the very least, the orange crime against fashion had that in its favour.

Mark had found his way into a hallway alcove that opened into the wider, emptier enrichment centre areas beyond. He peered into the darkness and found more testing areas built of panels that were suspended in the air, held in place by the mechanical arms that also controlled their movement. Below the walkway was a sheer drop into what he could only assume were the old salt mines. He couldn't even see the ground below.

Turning away from the dizzying height, Mark adjusted his grip on the portal device and carried on into the hallway itself, passing through an automated door that slammed shut behind him. He approached the door again. It did not unlock and open. For the moment, he was trapped.

The hallway itself was full of doors leading into adjacent rooms, some of which had windows that betrayed just how devoid of life the facility truly was. Other doors were locked with keypads, and despite his best efforts, Mark could not open them with any of the codes that he could remember. Not even his senior management code could override the locks.

Continuing his path, Mark found more automated doors that should have allowed him passage into the wider facility, but each stubbornly refused to open. Was he really trapped in here? Panic quickly bubbled in his stomach, climbing up through his chest and to his brain, clouding any judgement that he was desperately trying to cling on to. He could not – would not – be trapped in here. He was Mark Johnson, damn it! This was going to be his facility, and he was not going to be a prisoner! He turned on his heel, heading deeper into the corridor at speed, barely registering the slow drop in light and the thickening of shadows. His feet collided with debris as he broke into a sprint, following the meagre light that the portal device could provide as darkness loomed all around him.

And then the light returned suddenly and in earnest. Dazzled, he caught his foot and found himself quickly sprawled out on the floor. The portal device flew through the air and smashed on the tiles with a sickening crunch and an unusual, ear-splitting, whistling echo. Mark looked up in time to see a small flash of purple-green light and a miniature explosion.

The portal device was gone, and in its place was a ball of the purest darkness he had seen, and it just so happened to be pulling him towards it at an alarming pace, as it was all of the junk and furniture in the hallway. It didn't take a genius to realise what this oddity was: Mark was at the mercy of a black hole.

' _This is it,'_ he thought, desperately trying to dig his toes and his fingers into the floor, the walls, anything! _'This is how I die. Fuck, I don't want to die! Fuck!'_

His thoughts travelled to just how painful it could be to have the life so suddenly crushed out him and time just seemed to slow, taunting him with his imminent demise. He could only watch, utterly helpless, as cans and chairs were swallowed by the dark. That would be him soon.

"Oh God! I don't want to die!"

The gravity pulling on him grew stronger and stronger until he could take no more, and as the world around him grew dark and dizzy so too did his head. A rush of blood, a sharp thrill of horror, and his consciousness was lost.

() -+- ()

Chell lay on her bed, savouring the peace and quiet that the closed door could afford her. Had she fallen asleep again? It was hard to tell. She spent so much of her time sleeping that she found it difficult to know when she was asleep or lost in a numbed state.

She stared up at the mattress above hers, taking a vague interest in one of the many stains. Sii-Hya had always advised her to focus on something physical if she could feel herself slipping back into whatever the hell kind of mess her brain had become. This stain, however, was not holding her attention as she had hoped. And she needed a distraction.

Her talk with Sii-Hya had not gone well. He had accused her of recklessness, not with malice or with spite, but with concern. He had demanded that she stay in the camp, under guard, to protect both herself and others. But Chell could not help but feel that, even with his best intentions at heart, Sii-Hya had sentenced her to yet more imprisonment.

Chell knew that she was important to both the Resistance and the Combine. If the Combine ever captured her, and somehow managed to pull Aperture's secrets from her head, it would spell disaster for the human race. She needed more safety than most - but at what cost? She snorted with thinly disguised contempt. Her freedom, of course.

Her freedom for the safety of human and vortigaunt kind.

But how did the Combine – and the Resistance - know of her importance? No one was sure, not even Sii-Hya. How did they know her, and what in hell did they want the Borealis for? Of course, Chell had a few ideas based on what technology had been stashed away on Aperture's scientific vessel, and all of them were more terrible than the last.

Yet another reason to feel trapped. The Resistance revered her, the Combine coveted her, and both _feared_ her. Feared what she knew. Chell hated the attention.

Perhaps it would have been better if GLaDOS had not rescued her from the moon.

" _Where did your life go so wrong?"_

Chell froze. That voice. No, it couldn't be…

" _Someday we'll remember this and laugh, and laugh, and laugh. Oh boy…"_

Looking wildly around, Chell first stared at her charred Companion Cube and then to the wider room. The little light that there was showed nothing: no bright, yellow optic. No laser lines firing from red eyes.

" _Are you still there?"_

Chell yelped and jumped at the seemingly innocent voice, banging her head on the bunk bed as she bounded to her feet. Her eyes darted around the room, scanning furiously for any sign of danger. And there, in the corner of her eye and just below the ceiling, was a moving red lens.

" _I hate you."_

Her breath hitched. She was being watched. She was _always_ being watched. Her head snapped upwards, ready to fire a portal at the camera and loose it from the wall…

There was no camera. She wasn't being watched. This wasn't Aperture.

This wasn't home.

The door opened behind her, and in fell two guards who made straight for her side.

"Chell?" Asked one. "Are you okay?"

"We heard you scream." Said the other. Chell did not realise that she had made enough noise to attract their attention.

She held up a hand and forced a smile. "I'm fine," she said, her brain struggling to put words into sounds. "Honest. I'm fine."

Her guards begrudgingly left, but not without advising her to seek help if she needed it. Chell didn't need help: she needed a goddamn miracle. And the last thing she wanted to do was talk.

Talking was difficult. When she did speak it required a great amount of concentration to take the words contained in her head and transform them into coherent sentences. It had been a true struggle when she was a child due to her persistent stammer, but in her adult life she had learned to steady her voice through sheer force of will alone. It was exhausting, but sometimes it was necessary just to blend in - she already stood out enough.

Thankfully, Sii-Hya understood this. He didn't make her speak, but he instead held conversations with her through both thoughts and actions. She truly did appreciate this kindness as she genuinely preferred to be silent. Silence was easy.

Returning to her bed, Chell rested her head on thin pillows and glanced over to her Companion Cube with warmth. Sat atop the cube was a small list that she had written for herself, but instead of displaying letters from the alphabet it had upon it equations; these were no mere mathematical calculations but designs that in turn formed individual letters or full words. This was her equational alphabet, the alphabet she and her father had constructed together, as Chell could not read traditional English. Traditional English made her feel sick and made her head spin. Her equational alphabet came naturally to her. Her father had gone on to teach it to her mother who had taken to it quickly, but it was only he that had truly understood this alphabet as well as Chell.

The list itself was one containing the things for which she was thankful – yet another of Sii-Hya's ideas – but it was a _very_ short list:

\- Her parents (obviously)

\- Aunt Sophia and Uncle Gregg (who were not her biological aunt and uncle, but they had been her parent's closest friends and, as such, had always been a massive presence in her life)

\- Science (again, an obvious addition to the list)

\- Wheatley

Her eyes paused over Wheatley's name and cold guilt immediately flooded over her. Even if he had betrayed her, Chell should have tried harder to save him from the vacuum of space. And she had tried. She had tried so hard to latch onto him as GLaDOS cut his last ties to earth, but she should have put more effort into saving him. She had failed her funny friend from England whom had been her childhood companion.

Chell could still remember seeing him for the first time, when his school had held an exchange programme with her own; he had been a tall thing with wild ginger hair and dark blue eyes, bearing glasses that constantly slipped down the slope of his nose. Out of all his classmates he radiated an air of awkwardness – and Chell immediately knew that they would be fast friends.

And now that fast friend was lost to space, not as the human boy that she knew but as a personality core. How and when he had become a core was an unknown variable to her, but that did not change what she had eventually done to him. Shooting a portal to the moon had been an enraged instinct and a last, desperate attempt to stop Wheatley from inadvertently destroying the facility through his own ineptitude. She had not once thought about the possibility of losing him to space.

Her best friend and her loving parents, all lost because of her.

() -+- ()

Mark's head throbbed painfully as the world came back to him in intense but short bursts of light and sound. He could barely make out the corridor and the small pile of trash before him. The black hole, thankfully, was gone, and he could not have cared for the reason why. He was alive, and he could continue on his way.

His whole body shook as he got to his feet, hands reaching out to the nearest wall for support. The immediate walls had been warped by the pull of gravity and several floor tiles were now missing, making his slow and uncertain walk more treacherous than it had any right to be. Eventually his legs strengthened and he was once again able to walk without the aid of the wall, but he no longer knew how much distance there was between him and the Enrichment Centre. The corridor had opened up into several more hallways, and in his haste Mark had forgotten to note which route he had taken. His chosen path eventually led to a dead end, but it was a dead end that deeply confused and unsettled him.

He was face to face with a huge and beautifully painted mural of his cousin, Chell.

The mural showed Chell in an orange jumpsuit, much like his own, and in her arms she cradled what appeared to be a Companion Cube. The Aperture logo circled her head like some kind of a halo or a crown, and behind her stretched a pair of wings.

There were words floating around her, phrased as though they were titles, and each new honorific was a little more disturbing than before. _Chell, friend of the Cubes_ , said one. _Future-starter_ and _the best of us_ were two others. The last title was written in far larger text than its counterparts and was written into what he could only assume was a banner that hung beneath Chell's visage: _The Daughter of Aperture_.

"That's enough crazy for one day," Mark announced to no one before turning on his heel and finding another corridor to follow. The deadly tests had been bad enough, but now that he had nearly met his doom and found the only evidence of human life in a disturbing painting of his cousin, Mark had had enough.

Was his cousin alive? Was she here? The thought of her in stasis sent a thrill of trepidation down his spine. He should find her and wake her… or should he? If Chell was here, and if she were alive and awake, she would force herself into his position of power, he knew it. No offence to the girl but Mark believed that she had no idea how to run a corporation such as this, unless she had somehow enrolled herself in a business school sometime after her disappearance. It would perhaps be much easier to just pretend that he had never seen that mural.

Yes, as far as he was concerned his cousin was dead.

Mark made his way down several more corridors until he ran into the two robots, both of whom chirped and cheered upon finding him. He tried to resist their advances but the machines were faster and soon they had pulled him into a combined death grip that, he supposed, resembled a group hug. With little time to understand the situation, Mark found himself being hoisted above the robot's heads like a triumphant hero before they carried him back in the direction of what he could only assume was the Enrichment Centre.

"Don't put me back in those testing tracks!" He demanded, rage rising when the machines simply chuckled in response. "Listen here, I am to take control of this business, and I am telling you to put me down and to lead me to the fully staffed sectors of the facility. Right now."

More laughter, and from his laid position he could not escape the robot's grip. He had no choice but to see where he was taken.

Someone would answer for this when he took control of Aperture.


	5. An Archive Full of Memories

A/N: Hey guys! Hope you're all well. This chapter is a bit of a long one, so grab a snack, a drink and enjoy! Originally I was going to reply to some of your reviews and questions, but given the length of this chapter I'll be doing that in the next update instead. Anywho, I hope you like this latest chapter!

* * *

Chapter Five

An Archive Full of Memories

 _ **Memory Found. Begin Playback?**_

 _ **Play.**_

Caroline had graduated from college in the summertime, taking her degree in theoretical physics with her as she applied for a job at the most premier scientific facility the world had ever known - Black Mesa. She could remember her excitement as she had arrived, savouring the thought of working beside some of the greatest minds of a generation… only to then be faced with a soul-crushing disappointment: she was a woman, and no one hired women for their brains. She had marched away from the place with tears in her eyes. She didn't want to type or to file, or to answer the phone and sit in her chair looking vacant but pretty.

Three long and gruelling years of study and brilliance, of standing up for her right to education, and it had led to this. She didn't know why she hadn't anticipated this outcome.

Her parents had recently relocated to Michigan in the hopes of improving her father's business deals, and so Caroline found herself moving into their new home with them. Her two older sisters and brother had all continued with their lives; her sisters creating families of their own, whilst her brother had taken up an editorial position for a popular magazine. Yet here she was, the youngest of four, living with her parents as a complete failure.

As the weeks passed she applied for smaller jobs at much smaller laboratories, all of whom gave her the same answer as Black Mesa. Yet there was one name that did stand out as a constant title on her job-seeking lists: Aperture Science Innovators. She had heard of this name before, briefly, at college, but it was still a relatively new facility, and if what she had heard was true then the founder had done nothing but sell shower curtains before his transition into the sciences. How was that sound business sense? What did this Mr. Cave Johnson know about physics, chemistry or biology? Caroline disregarded their adverts for staff; even with the small chance that they may hire female scientists, just how long would it be until the company folded?

It had been her mother who had finally convinced her to take up a job in Aperture's administration.

"Just think, if the company does go under then at least you will have put some money aside." Her mother suggested one evening, as they spoke, drank and shared their home-made tiramisu. "Then you can start look further afield. And perhaps you may even like it there, diletta. There may even be room for advancement. It may not be what you want, but it could be what you need."

So Caroline applied. She was hired immediately.

She was not assigned as a scientist (much to her disapproval) but as an office assistant to one of the company's heads of department, Gregg Newman. Caroline spent months working diligently for Gregg and his biology team, finding herself pleasantly surprised that the job itself was quite enjoyable. She was endlessly fascinated by their work and was not shunned when she voiced an opinion or an idea. Even the small chores, such as ordering flowers for Gregg's fiancé Sofia (who, like Caroline, worked in the biology office) were pleasant.

The regular visits made by Cave Johnson, however, irked her. When he arrived, dressed neatly in his sharp suits and well-kept hair, the whole department would dissolve into a loud hive of anticipation tied up in a lab coat. Gregg and Johnson would disappear into Gregg's office, sometimes for hours, before Johnson would promptly leave again. Caroline learned to keep her attention on her work whenever he was present, unlike the other staff. What business did a shower curtain salesman have in here? Did he even understand any of their work?

Before she knew it, Christmas had arrived, and with it came Caroline's first Aperture Science Innovators Christmas Party Extravaganza…

 _Giggling as though she were a teenage schoolgirl, Caroline stumbled into the nearest wall. She barely registered any pain as her elbow met the plastered brick, senses as thick as the drunken mire of her brain. Christmas music rang in her ears, mixing with the chatter of the excitable crowd. Never had she felt so free, so… rebellious. Respectable, sweet and well-behaved Caroline had never been so drunk, and_ dear God _it felt_ good _._

" _Caroline? Caroline?"_

 _Caroline vaguely registered the voice that was calling out to her, instantly recognising it as Sofia's. She loved Sofia – that woman was one of the best friends Caroline had ever had, and she was certainly closer to her than she was her own sisters. But where was she? She couldn't see her._

 _A blurry face stepped into view, one with long blonde hair and immaculate make-up. Sofia._

" _You need to sit down, lovely," Sofia cooed with that calming English lilt, leading Caroline away from the wall against which she had slumped, through the masses of dancing bodies, and towards a collection of plush chairs and tables. "There you go. I asked you not to drink so much."_

 _Caroline, now seated, smiled up at Sofia with a toothy grin. "I only had the one glass."_

" _No, you had the one glass that was then refilled several times."_

" _Exactly. One!"_

" _That isn't how it works, Caroline."_

 _From behind Sofia, Caroline saw two figures approach. As they drew close she recognised them as Gregg – who leaned over Sofia's chair to give her a kiss – and… no… why did it have to be Johnson?_

" _You girls alright?" Gregg asked with a chirp to his voice, looking between his fiancé and her friend in turn. "Hey Caroline," he laughed, holding up his hand to show her three fingers. "How many?"_

" _Five," she replied, the alcohol in her system coercing her into acting out._

" _Wow," Gregg straightened with a smile. "How much has she had to drink?"_

" _Don't ask," was Sofia's quick reply._

" _Well, she seems happy enough. Mind if Cave and I join you?"_

'Yes,' _Caroline thought. Gregg could stay – she considered Gregg a friend too - but Johnson could leave. Yet her thoughts alone were not enough to stop the man from sitting in the chair next to hers as Gregg pushed his own seat closer to Sofia's._

" _Sofia!" Johnson began, beaming from ear to ear. "How are you, kiddo? Haven't spoken to you in a while."_

 _Sofia chuckled in return. "That's probably because you're always too busy to find. I told you that you need an assistant."_

" _Nah, I don't need some busy body messing up all my stuff. My filing is second to none!"_

" _Cave, your filing is atrocious."_

" _Well maybe, but I sure as hell understand it." His retort was quick, but the warm smile remained._

 _Caroline huffed and rearranged her position, catching Sofia's warning glance as she settled into the corner of her chair. If she were to be stuck with Johnson then she might as well be comfortable._

 _Caroline watched and listened to the conversation between her friends and her boss. Fortunately the discussion stayed firmly on the topic of their upcoming wedding, and did not travel to the events of the workplace. If Johnson so much as tried to involve himself with any of the facilities work, Caroline knew that she would not have been able to control her tongue. No, she was more than content to remain silent, opting instead to have her glass filled when one of the many serving staff made their consistent rounds. She couldn't engage in conversation if her mouth was full._

 _Other members of staff would occasionally join the group, hoping beyond hope to keep in favour with Johnson if they did so, and to compensate Caroline invented a new drinking game; she would take a reasonable amount of alcohol into her mouth whenever anyone kissed Johnson's ass. If she hadn't already been drunk, then she would have become so very, very quickly._

" _So," Johnson's voice broke the monotonous drone of music and chatter. "I did need to talk to you, Gregg, about that gene splicing."_

" _Oh yeah?" Gregg replied, cocking his head in curiosity. "What's on your mind Cave?"_

'Oh, here we go,' _snarled a small voice in the forefront of Caroline's brain._

" _It's that government grant that got me thinking," Johnson began, edging forward in his seat, hands flying eagerly in the air. "You know, the defence one? What if, instead of plant on plant splicing, we try plant on, say, mantis DNA?"_

 _A loud and sharp cackle ended that conversation quickly. Sofia, Gregg and Johnson all turned to Caroline, who was trying so desperately hard to control another bark of laughter._

" _Caroline," Sofia's voice was low, cautious, "I think perhaps that you really have had too much to drink. I'm sorry boys," she turned to Gregg and Johnson. "I'll help her straighten herself up a bit. Come on, lovely."_

 _But Caroline shook her head and remained firmly in her seat._

" _Caroline."_

" _No, no," Caroline replied, making a point to exaggerate her next words carefully. "I'm intrigued. Let Mr. Johnson explain." She turned to face her boss, looking him directly in the eyes. "Carry on, sir."_

 _But Cave Johnson did not continue. Instead he glared back at her, his gaze unwavering. Caroline should have felt crushed under the weight of his contemplation, and a small part of her did want to break eye contact and flee. But she was determined to not back down. Not to him. Not to anybody._

 _It was Johnson who broke the uneasy silence between the group._

" _Is there a problem, miss?" His eyes did not leave hers._

" _Yes actually, sir, there is a problem; what do you know about particle symmetry? Quantum field theory? Even basic biology? You. Sold. Shower curtains."_

 _He blinked, and for a moment Caroline thought she saw a glimpse of something flash in his eyes, something soft - perhaps sad – and his face dulled. But this passive change of character was quickly replaced by a cold fury._

" _And what in the hell has that got to do with you?"_

 _No. She would not be intimidated. Standing up to her full height on shaking and uneasy legs, Caroline scowled down at Johnson._

" _I have a degree,_ sir _, in theoretical physics. And what can I do with that degree? Nothing. What can you do with no qualifications? Everything."_

" _Damn right I can!"_

 _And suddenly Caroline felt very, very small._

 _Johnson rose to his feet, towering above her. Even in heels she barely met his shoulders. And he was broad, well-built. Strong. If he were to lay a finger on her then Caroline would never stand a chance._

 _The room had fallen silent. Even the music had been turned down so low that it became an uncomfortable buzz. Everybody was watching them._

" _Cave, Caroline," Gregg began, his voice calm as he too began to leave his chair. "This isn't necessary. Caroline, you are far too drunk, okay? Cave, you just need to relax."_

" _Oh, I was relaxed!" Johnson bit back._

" _Don't you talk to Gregg like that!" Caroline seethed, her eyes thinning._

 _Johnson rounded on her. "And nobody speaks back to me, especially not some goddamn arm candy!"_

 _Before Caroline could think, her hand reached out to her half-full glass. In an instant, Johnson was wearing red wine. It dripped from his face and to his shirt, his tie, his suit…_

 _The room exploded in one unified gasp._

 _After a prolonged silence between them, one that was only disturbed by the excited hum from their captivated audience, Johnson looked down on Caroline with an odd glance. She couldn't tell if he was angry or embarrassed, and frankly she no longer cared._

" _Missy," he began, his voice low and oddly quiet, "you are…"_

" _You can't fire me – I quit!"_

 _Turning on her heel, Caroline left the large conference room and made her lonely way towards the biology department, crossing the vast canyons of the salt mines that the facility was built into. She wasn't sure when it had happened, but the effects of feeling drunk, and her bravado, had all but disappeared, leaving only regret in their wake._

 _How could she have been so stupid? She had argued with Cave Johnson! Aperture was her only true shot at a job in science, and now, much like her wine, she had thrown it all away._

'Stupid! Stupid!'

 _Caroline arrived at her desk much faster than she would have liked and, having collected an empty box on her route, began to slowly and carefully pack away her few and meagre belongings. With her desk empty, Caroline took one last place in her chair, looking about at the richly decorated office of wood, polished glass and tile. She took in as much of it as he could, trying to ingrain the image in her mind._

" _Say goodbye, Caroline." She whispered to herself, feeling the first pangs of a stinging sensation at her eyes. "It's over."_

 _She remained in her seat for a little while longer, aimlessly pondering on what would not have happened if she had just kept her mouth shut, when she heard the deep_ clack clack _of heavy shoes on the tiles behind her._

'Oh God, has someone come to gloat?'

 _There was a pause in the footsteps, and then;_

" _It's Caroline, isn't it? I can call you Caroline?"_

 _She froze. What was Johnson doing here?_

 _He entered her vision as he stood by her desk. His suit jacket was gone, tie loosened, revealing just how much of his shirt collar the wine had stained – it was less than she had thought, but it was still more than enough. She looked up at him cautiously, expecting the worst, only to find a man who was the epitome of calm._

 _Johnson inclined his head towards a nearby chair. "May I?"_

 _Caroline nodded, still uncertain of the situation. Why wasn't he furious at her? Was this a trick? A trap? The thought of his strength returned to her and her blood ran cold. It would not be the first time that a man had handled her roughly, and those other men had been a lot less physically intimidating._

 _Whilst Caroline's mind had wandered to a dark place, Johnson had moved his seat across the desk from her and taken his spot upon it._

" _So," he began bringing Caroline back to reality, "theoretical physics. You must be damn smart to get that degree."_

" _Yes, sir." Her reply wasn't a thank you - it was a statement of fact._

" _Modest too," he quipped, but not without a smile. "I'm joking. Look, I'm gonna cut right to it. You're not fired."_

 _Caroline could not believe what she was hearing. Not fired? What was the catch?_

 _Johnson looked at the box sat between them before returning to her. "I'd keep your stuff boxed for now though – you're relocating."_

" _I – what?"_

" _You heard," he tapped the box as though to reaffirm his point. "I've got a better job for you. Better pay. Longer hours."_

 _Caroline shook her head in disbelief. "I don't understand. I threw my drink at you. I argued with you."_

" _And?"_

 _She stared at him, incredulous. "You were furious with me."_

" _I was. But you want to know something, Caroline? I like you. You're not afraid to stand up to me." Johnson pushed his chair back and leaned into it, making himself comfortable. "There are too many brown-nosing bastards in this place. But you? You don't care that I'm in charge. What, you think I didn't notice that when I walked in here, that you carried on with your work, even though everyone else lost their damn minds? Missy, you stood out like the fourth of July._

" _I like your work ethic, Caroline. You're dedicated! Driven! Not afraid to stand up to the boss! You are the kind of person that Aperture has needed for a long time. And that's why you're getting this promotion."_

 _Was any of this real? Caroline had begun to suspect that she may, in her drunken state, have slipped and banged her head._

 _She sat up a little straighter in her chair, once again looking her boss in the eyes. But this time it was different. He looked hopeful._

" _And just what is this job exactly?" She asked, still uncertain._

" _You're my assistant."_

 _And Caroline cackled again. Of course. Of course she would still be an office girl! But this time she would be a glorified office girl. This wasn't a step up. Surely this was his way of punishing her for her insubordination._

" _You can laugh if you want," Johnson replied. "But I know you're going to love it. You haven't seen the perks that'll come with this job yet."_

" _And what perks would they be, sir?"_

 _He smiled – a real, genuine smile that made his whole face light up - from his chin and to his curiously deep blue eyes._

" _Science, Caroline. Real science."_

 _ **End Playback?**_

 _ **End.**_

Cave had been right; Caroline had loved her job as his assistant. From that first moment that she had stepped into her own little office, she had fallen in love with her newfound position in the company. Working so closely with Cave meant that she had a direct say in Aperture's business and she watched as real science unfolded before her eyes. Eventually, Cave entrusted to her the true origins of Aperture's creations; they were, mostly, all down to Cave himself. Cave Johnson, ex-shower curtain salesman, had been a true genius.

Cave had been born into a poor family, one where aspirations of college were but a dream. But that did nothing to curb Cave's enthusiasm and natural ability in the sciences and the mathematical. He excelled at school, and his keen interests were indulged by his mother who used what little money she could spare to buy him books on the scientific subjects that held his attention the most: physics and biology.

However, Caroline quickly learned that Cave's life had been a series of pitfalls, starting with the death of his mother when he was but a young boy. His father had quickly remarried and, with his new wife, had a second son. Cave was shunned in favour of his brother, Lucas, whose mother ensured that he remained the centre of attention, and Cave's father had been more than happy to maintain this plan. Throughout his school years, Cave watched from the side-lines as his brother was supplied with better clothes and equipment. He looked on as his father and stepmother humoured his brother's every whim. And when he was old enough to leave school, Cave took his father's place at Aperture Shower Curtains and Fixtures when he became too ill to work. Even with their rejection, Cave had felt the need to support his family.

Yet where his father had failed and struggled in business, Cave succeeded, winning sale after sale with his natural charisma and witty charm (something that, he claimed, to have inherited from his mother). Cave rose through the ranks at a blinding speed, and though he eventually left to join the war effort, he was assured that his job would still be there upon his homecoming. It had not been a lie - Cave returned from the war to find that his job, and a promotion, were waiting for him.

His father died soon after his return, leaving Cave to discover that both he and his stepmother had been setting aside money for Lucas' college fund for many years – money that they had claimed to not possess; money that they had taken from that which Cave had given to them in trust.

Suffice to say, Cave did not attend his father's funeral. Instead he took over the company and transformed it into a scientific powerhouse in _"a final fuck you to my old man"_ , as Cave so beautifully put it.

But now Cave was gone, and the only evidence of his existence was found in the older facility below. Their beautiful daughter, too, was gone, lost forever to the world beyond Aperture. Only Caroline remained, trapped in the chassis of a supercomputer, with only her twisted counterpart for company.

It was little wonder that Caroline revisited her memories with increasing frequency.

GLaDOS, meanwhile, had been waiting intently for the safe return of her test subject. She watched as Blue and Orange carried him above their heads, both chirping happily whilst the human wriggled against their grip and howled obscenities at them.

"What a charming young man," GLaDOS noted, her voice dripping with sarcasm. "I really must find a way to _discourage_ him from using such colourful language."

Caroline said nothing, choosing instead to watch as the testing initiative returned Mark to the current chamber. GLaDOS created an opening in the chamber wall, and both robots gently dropped Mark inside before making their quick escape through the closing panels.

GLaDOS turned her attention to her robots, switching her communication channels to private. The human should be oblivious to their conversation.

"Where is his Handheld Portal Device?" She asked, listening as Orange explained that there had been no sign of it. "Oh well," she continued, returning her attention to the test chamber cameras. "He'll just have to wait whilst I prepare a new one."

Caroline remained silent as her attention was focused solely on Mark. Perhaps she was not as alone as she had originally thought; her nephew was here, at the very least, though she knew very little about him. Cave and Lucas had never been interested in family reunions, and so Caroline had seen precious little of Mark when she was still in possession of a body.

Perhaps now was the time to learn a little more about him? It could be a family gathering that was long overdue. But to do so she would need to protect him, somehow, from GLaDOS and her dangerous test chambers. She would need a plan.

" _A plan is only as good as the people who follow it."_

Caroline paused. Who was _that_?

GLaDOS, it seemed, had not heard the voice – a deep, male, but fluctuating voice - as she continued with her ministrations on each of the upcoming chambers.

" _And the people who follow have to be as good as the plan."_

Caroline dare not speak, lest she attract GLaDOS' attention. Who, or what, was that voice? It sounded like the announcement system, but remained different to it.

" _The best laid plans of machine and man often go awry, and leave us nothing but pain for our hubris."_

Caroline cast GLaDOS a quick thought before she returned to the sudden and unusual voice and, hoping beyond hope that the computer would not hear her, asked;

"Who are you?"

Silence was her only reply.

' _What the hell is going on here?'_ She wondered, feeling a thrill of terror in her data.

Whatever this was, her instinct warned, it was not good.

* * *

 _* The mystery voice was, in part, mis-quoting 'To A Mouse, On Turning Her Up In Her Nest With The Plough' by Robert Burns._


End file.
